Single mom shares her thoughts about life, love and loss. It's an emotional journey, but it's healing.
Being a single parent is hard.
Truly an understatement if you have any experience with being one yourself.
Most people don’t understand, but there are different part of my girls’ lives that require SO much extra attention that every so often I fall apart, emotionally drained and frustratingly spread thin. With one daughter on the verge of a puberty-induced mental breakdown and another with more battery life than the Energizer bunny, my mind never gets a chance to relax and focus on the tasks I need to get done.
Right now I’ve got taxes, business letters, return emails, phone calls to insurance companies, and other financial documents taking a back seat to necessary clothes shopping, doctor appointments, haircuts, and various school activities. Then the day comes that I can no longer procrastinate or keep the mountain of “to do” balanced well-enough to avoid falling down all around me. Then one kid begins to cry because her math homework is hard (although she is “acing” math) and the other asks a question five times in a row (despite getting an answer the first time) and well… that’s when I lose it.
Forget medicating the children. I need a drink!
How do you avoid burnout when you have to be 2 of everything that it takes to run a household and raise responsible, upstanding, high achieving children?
Every second of every day I need to be available to be a shoulder to cry on as well as a maid, cook, fashion designer, hair stylist, mediator, technical support, delivery driver, nurse, business manager, teacher, dishwasher, accountant, record keeper, personal organizer, talent agent, comedian, and activity director. That’s on top of the mommy things we do that would fall under the “be a friend to our children” category and, for me at least, in addition to a Monday through Thursday 12-hour day that begins by getting three people up and dressed and to school/work on time and ends walking through the door to a messy home and arguing, hungry kids.
Nobody said this was gonna be easy. Good thing, or I’d have to call them a liar, liar, plants for hire. There’s one for all you parents of Spongebob fans.
I try not to let them see me cry; it’s not their fault after all. But there’s got to be an easier way to make this work. My anxiety gets the best of me sometimes and far too often I can think of nothing more lovely than crawling under my blankets behind a locked door. The best I get is 5 minutes in the bathroom; just enough time to bawl into a towel and clean up my face before returning to the war zone with a fake smile on my face.
Can parenting ever be perfected?
Of course not, but yet I feel as if I’m always failing, and every time I hear one of my children cry, complain, or express concern, I wonder where I’m going wrong. Parenting is just a small facet of who I am and what I am facing in this lifetime. Yet, it really has consumed all of me. I guess that’s how ministry works. But I wonder, “Can this really be God’s plan for me?” I know deep down, it is. He didn’t want to see me suffer, see me cheated on and abandoned. He wanted better for me than that, and this way I will have that. I do have that. My kids have that, too.
Despite the trials and the uphill battle single parenting has brought, the kids and I are far happier than we were in a loveless marriage. And we’ll be a million times happier when a God-fearing man comes into our lives to play a part in it all. Sick and twisted he’ll have to be to want to take on the work that would be required to be a part of this family, but maybe someday, someone will show up ready and willing, filled with as much God-given strength as I have been given. Maybe one day, I can honestly say that God’s plans don’t suck forever.
February has historically been a tough month for me. Over the years, many of my life’s (not-so-great) defining moments happened during this month, and it’s hard not to be reminded of it each time January ends. Oh, and never mind the endless onslaught of commercials, magazine covers, and movies that tell me this is the happiest and most love-filled month of the year and that I am nothing without a Valentine.
Don’t get me wrong: I love chocolates and little candy hearts with messages on them and heart-shaped pizza. I don’t love society telling me my life isn’t complete unless I have someone to eat them with. I love sappy romance flicks and love songs and holding hands and skin-tingling kisses. I don’t love being reminded that I am missing out on something greater.
Sure, my life is good. I mean, I am happy. I have a place to live, I have a great new job (yay me!), I have many wonderful friends, and a supportive family. I have two little girls who love me to the moon and back; according to one of them at least. Best of all, I have a God who loves me and provides for me and forgives my every sin.
So what’s so wrong with all that?
Nothing. Then society steps in and gives me a reason to doubt that all that I have and am grateful for is not enough.
It’s not just that, though. God’s Word itself, The Bible, tells me how wonderful love is… that humans were not made to be alone… that two is better than one… that love triumphs all evil, covers all sin.
Personally, I get sick of my friends who tell me being single is a blessing and that I should focus on God alone. I do understand, and I do realize, that for all things there is a time and season. They are great learning and growth opportunities, and boy have I done a lot of that in the last 3 years.
There comes a time though, when growth stands still and life plateaus. Just like an exercise regiment that gets stale, a new element needs to be added in order for change to continue. With singleness, there does come a time when you need to open your heart to love and let it in so that you can continue to change and become the person you were meant to be. The trick is knowing when it’s time. Too soon and you fight a strong current. Too late and you could miss something grand. God’s timing is perfect, but most of us have a hard time waiting for His signal to stand out loud and clear above our own will.
I haven’t figured it out yet.
If you thought I was writing this to tell you that I believe my season of singleness is over, you’re wrong.
I’m still waiting. For what, I’m not sure. A big bolt in the sky. A glimpse of clarity. A heart-stopping moment. Some sign of some kind.
In the meantime, I’ve filled my life with more distractions than I know how to juggle. But like all things you throw into the air, at some point they fall to the ground. When the juggling act slows down for a second, when life gives me time to breathe and collect my thoughts, that’s when I’m no longer distracted and when I start to miss love and wonder if I’ve missed the boat, as well.
I’m tired of waiting. In my heart, I’ve all but given up.
It’s in these moments of stillness that I begin to think my time has passed. Some days I truly believe I will never again marry and when I see pictures of myself, I see myself old and alone. And not because I believe this is how God wants me; that He sees me as better off single or better able to serve the world alone. Rather, it’s just too hard not to give up and I’m really not as strong as people think I am.
I don’t know how many married people read my blog, but I know you have moments like this, too. I know there are times when you feel like your marriage was a mistake, like you are living with a roommate and not your spouse, like you are missing out on something bigger and better. Trust me, I know. I feel your pain.
It’s human nature to think about all the things we don’t have, can’t have, should have had but never will get. Whether you are married, single, separated, or divorced, we all have those thoughts. I suppose those thoughts of mine are what spurred on this post. There are many things I’d like to have in my life right now, but don’t. More than any of those things, love is at the top. It’s all that matters. Not money, not things money can buy, nothing.
Maybe my time has passed. Maybe it hasn’t. I don’t know, but I hope not.
There is nothing greater in this world than seeing a smile you are responsible for, feeling a touch you’ve thought about all day, hearing a voice that comforts. There is nothing more powerful in this world than love. More powerful than death, than sin, than all the evil that this world is being swallowed up in… love conquers all.
So forgive me just this month if I put aside all the misgivings I have over February and join the masses in believing that life is not complete without all the images that Valentine’s Day brings to mind. Forgive me if I soak in the romance of it all and dwell just for a moment on breath-taking first glances with eyes that smile and arms that hold tight and never let go.
Moments like these I believe God created love to give us something to live for, to die for, and to look forward to when times are tough.
Now you’ll have to excuse me. My chocolates and love song playlist are waiting.
Lookout Studio, Grand Canyon (via aneclecticmind.com)
Where are you friend
why aren’t you here
and exactly when did life get so bad
you were my shining light
you showed me God is hope
and gave support when i was sad
but now that i need you near
i’m left to miss you so
’cause you’re nowhere to be found
the pain you must have felt
the days you must have planned
before you lept off solid ground
i wish you could have known
i wish you would have felt
that you weren’t alone that day
i want to hold your hand
and give you one last hug
but heaven is just too far away
do you hear me cry
or see my silent tears
can you feel the pain within me
it’s so hard to let go
i really miss you friend
but i know now, you’re truly set free.
I’ve lost the desire to write.
Creatively, mind you. Give me a 550-word assignment on “basement refinishing” optimized with a keyword density of 1.5% and I’ll have it for you in 20 minutes. Ask me to write a moving blog post about the holiday season however, and you’ll be waiting a while. This has nothing to do with whether I had a fulfilling Christmas or not — it was a nice albeit quiet one — but it’s a matter of heart.
I have to admit I’ve been in a funk lately, but that has never had a bearing on my writing before. In fact, I write best when emotionally charged, no matter which direction. Depression? A writer’s best friend.
No, this is something different. It’s an indifference almost. I imagine it’s something like what people feel when in shock. Or grief. Going through the motions of life, taking some time to feel emotions here and there, but mostly shutting out all around you in hopes that the triggers that bring on the avalanche of feelings remain hidden.
Right here, right now — I want to write, but the words won’t come…
Why is it so amazingly easy to say no to something I want and yes to something I don’t? Those to whom I’ve said no would never understand and it would take a lifetime of explaining to even get close. Truthfully, I wouldn’t even know where to start.
I know my situation is a product of my own decisions, as there have been opportunities turned down and people turned away. And still, even though I’m not entirely happy with where I’m at, I continue to turn down the things which might bring me joy.
In matters of the heart, I claim to want love and yet give off a vibe that makes me the most unapproachable single mom alive. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not doing it on purpose and I’m not playing games. I do want romance and chemistry and passion… but I don’t believe you should have to work for it. The greatest loves just happen. You have no say over it because the connection is there before either of you even know it. There is no work involved no matter how much self-sacrifice takes place; pure joy covers the effort.
Of all the times I’ve said “I love you” to a man, only once have I experienced such a connection. Our friendship was based on trust and understanding and acceptance right from the start because there was no other option. It just happened, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be. No sooner did God bring him into my life did He take him away… perhaps a lesson to learn about what true love should be. Not something predictable by physical proximity, nor each other’s age, upbringing, or vices. But rather it’s a pillar of strength and a beacon of light that shines in the dark and points to the irreplaceable love of the Father. In good times and bad, the bond of friendship never ceases although one can pretend it does. Long enough to walk away can one fool themselves and forever be sorry.
He is gone now and though I fought hard to forget for quite some time, his death has made it harder to do so. Grief is a funny thing; it highlights what is missing in our lives and makes us believe that one shot is all we get. We believe nothing could ever be so good; that we’ve used up all the luck we had.
Say it isn’t so.
No, I’m not playing hard to get. I am hard to get. Love is not a game I want to play, a chance I want to take. I want to wake up in it, unexpectedly, without searching or trying or wondering. Because the real thing, it just happens. It’s there; before you’ve even had the chance to give your heart permission, it’s gone.
It happens. It did happen. It will again. God is so good I have to believe that.
Next time there will be no pretending. No walking away, afraid to fight the norm.
Until then, I may seem lonely and talk about love… I may wish for, hope for love. But I have my blinders on and will continue to say no… because I have realized that if I need to answer, it’s already too late. It’s not real.
